Date: Tue, 20 May 2008 20:36:31 -0400
From: niftyreadersclub@aol.com
Subject: The Journey - Part Nine
The Journey
Part Nine
During the next week, I thought about what I was going to do. In my
opinion, so far, this all felt like a sexual situation for me, but much
more for Zavid. I thought about what Max told me. I even unraveled all of
my beliefs so that they were all hanging loosely in my mind, as independent
from each other as possible. There was so much I subconsciously had wound
tightly in a ball that it couldn't be penetrated by new beliefs.
True enough, I spent my entire life strongly believing that incest was
wrong, yet now, I had to compare everything to Max's explanation he told me
about it. How true he was. I've never heard of a good situation with
incest, but it didn't mean that it doesn't exist. I searched Google on the
word, and was utterly shocked at how much information came up. There were
dozens of websites. Anyone I clicked on was regarding unacceptable
situations that had taken place, a father forcing a daughter, a brother
forcing a daughter, a brother forcing a brother, a father forcing a son.
No matter what case I read, there wasn't one good thing about it.
I did find one website that seemed to want to try to express a base of
understanding, reasons why incest happens, who instigates it. In most
cases, it is a tyrant member of the family. On this same site were links
that went to studies. On one site, I typed in the word `brothers.' I read
everything available to me. There were true stories told by siblings in
surveys and human studies. Brothers, who came forward, even from years
back, described their mutual experimentation, and even though they were
automatically straight, it didn't do anything harmful to the relationships
afterward, perhaps that they were bonded even more strongly than earlier
years. There was nothing written regarding such experiences as taboo or
not, nothing that said it shouldn't happen.
Typing in the word `fathers,' it was a different story. Although there was
some documentation, a handful of stories told by fathers and their sons
that it was a good experience, whatever they shared, it still rang loud and
clear what was written about it, that it was wrong for even a father to
touch his son when he's a teenager. Even though the sons, now older, who
admitted to wanting it, their fathers were told they were still wrong, that
teenagers don't have the strength and ability of self to determine it to be
right, or acceptable.
So much information, but nothing to help except being told not to, that it
wasn't fair to a minor, even if it was he himself who instigated it. I was
on my own with this completely. I believed that at the age of fourteen,
Zavid wasn't fully ready to sit down with me and just be able to jack off
together. There would be too much in his head that would want more. And
as a straight man, I wasn't ready either, not even to jack off.
I asked myself why. Two things that kept coming into my mind were that I
risked my own son falling in love with me, and that I didn't know how I'd
feel shooting my load in front of another male. Doing that was such a
private thing for me, probably for most straight men, except for
pornography guys, I humored myself. I never even did it for my wife, just
letting her watch me. She wasn't that type of woman sexually anyway, to
differ from the original act of sex. I always came inside her. A big part
of this all came down to me, myself and I, and Zavid's age.
Personally, I did find myself not wanting to hold back from this.
So I decided two things. One, I was going to keep Zavid as close to me
physically but non-sexual as possible, in hopes that he might feel the need
to push away, and two, I had to get him out of the clouds he was lost it.
I knew I was never going to give up on this, I was in too deep.
I started keeping the voices at bay; they only harmed me and burdened my
decision making. I firmly told myself that in the future, if Zavid really
had the need to be sexual with me and if I had a reason why it should
happen, I'd do it, but not soon.
Max hit a strong point when he recognized that I was male body shy. I
never thought about it as being a road block in understanding myself. I
thought it was just my way of how I was with other men. I finally found
alone time a couple weeks later on a Saturday. Gena took the girls for
some day class at an art shop, Corbin was wherever he was, and Zave was
hanging out at the park with a couple friends. I got that DVD from out of
hiding, went into the family room, and turned it on.
Putting myself in a complete objective mood, I watched. The man in the
video was a typical, attractive guy, five o'clock shadow, inviting green
eyes, short dark hair. He was speaking as if directly to me, and I even
looked around the room to see if anyone was there, it struck me so oddly
that his speaking to me directly seemed so realistic. It got my full
attention.
He started out lightly clothed, and went step by step, talking about
teaching me self pleasure, undressing until naked, then putting a white
robe on. The camera angle hardly changed at all through the video, only
when he moved to another part of the room he was in. He first got himself
in the mood with body touching while talking, explaining a touch here, a
touch there. It moved along almost pleasantly, even to me. Next was the
crotch, his slowly getting hard, but not touching his cock yet. It all
went almost in the blink of an eye, even though the video itself was
forty-seven minutes. I absorbed his every word, and was even hard myself
by the time it came to ejaculation for him. He looked so excited, erotic,
ecstatic, tingling all at the same time. I could see his entire body as he
came. Curling toes, the body shuddering, his eyes glued to his cock, the
inevitable heavy inhales and exhales, the jettisons of sperm release over
his stomach and chest. I never had a reaction like that when alone. The
camera stayed on him until he was completely calm and motionless, always
looking into the camera. When he looked ready to be done, he talked a
little more about after effects, that the sensation doesn't have to stop
right after cumming. He touched himself a little more, but probably ended
sooner than wanting to because of video time.
In all my life, I never did anything like what I'd just seen. I couldn't
picture myself doing that. I didn't know what to think. I hid the DVD
again and sat back in the family room, my erection still with me, and
wondering why. I'd just watched a man masturbate visually. I shouldn't be
hard. Shaking the sensation of confusion away, I cleared my mind, and my
hard-on started going down. It made me nervous that this happened to me
but I didn't let myself dwell on it. This was just more for me to think
about.
I had over a month left of summer to try to get Zavid into doing something
that would take his mind from his emotions. In these past few weeks, there
was a strong sense of safety between him and me. There were times when
he'd come up to me, not even needing to talk, that I knew he remembered
that morning in the tree house. Another thing I noticed was that Corbin
went off with him one or two times a week, chumming around together. So
far, Corbin didn't come to me with any disturbing issues about his brother.
Something did happen during the week we were in, however. It was late
afternoon. I was in the living room reading the paper when Corbin joined
me on the couch. Gena was in the kitchen cooking dinner around the corner.
"Dad, I've gotta tell you what I did to Zave the other day," he said
excitedly, grinning. Anything about Zavid got my attention. "We were
hanging out at the mall, and knowing me, you're gonna think, I was doing
nothing but talking about all the women I was noticing, which I was. Zave
was okay with it, he always is.
"Anyway, I decided to ask him if he saw any cute guys around."
This was surprising. So surprising, I interrupted. "Wait. Wait. Wait.
YOU? You asked him that?"
"Come on dad," he shrugged his shoulders, "it's not a big thing for me. I
did promise him that I would try to be open minded." I shook my head with
disbelief, but wanted to hear the rest. "He told me to knock it off." He
peeled laughter. "I ran with it, just to tease him somewhat, and kept
doing it. There really wasn't anyone around that was going to notice the
conversation, I made sure of that. So I through an arm around him and told
him to come on and tell me, that I knew he had to at least be looking. He
fought to get away as I kept asking, and when he finally knew he couldn't,
he pointed to some random guy. I think he just pointed to anyone just to
get me to stop."
"I can't believe you did that! I mean, I'm glad," I told him, still in
shock, "but it's surprising. Corbin, you have the capability to be such a
nice person when you want to be."
He ignored the comment and said, "Dad, I think I can handle this thing with
Zave. I may still have doubts about being able to like a lot of gay
people, but my brother's nothing like the type of gay guys I hear and joke
about." Something slammed down so hard in the dining room that we both
jumped up. Gena was at the table. She'd just slammed a glass plate on the
surface, staring from Corbin to me, looking agitated. "Honey, what?"
"I can't believe you two are doing this!" She stated, and there was hurt in
her voice.
"Doing what, mom?" Corbin asked nervously.
"You're encouraging him!" She said with negative passion. Looking at me,
Gena said, "He's fourteen years old! This isn't right." She covered her
face with both hands.
Looking at Corbin, I saw that look on his face, the one that told me he was
thinking he'd made a wrong decision. "Cor!" He looked at me quickly.
"It's okay. I'm glad you did what you did, it was a nice thing to do."
His look changed to confusion.
"Corbin, would you leave us alone please?" His mother asked him.
He was about to step away and I angrily said, "Absolutely not!" He froze.
Looking back at her, I said, "He's old enough to be here for this." I
received the `goddamnit' look from her. I hopped from foot to foot in
frustration. "I don't understand, Gena. Really, I don't. You have gay
friends, you've helped support gay people. I'm not understanding your
reaction here." I was very glad that Zavid and the girls weren't in the
house.
"He's too young!" She told us. "Encouraging him now could really screw
him up if this is just a phase in his life."
"We're not encouraging him. We're supporting him," I told her.
"Zavid should be thinking about playing with friends and school and
anything else right now. Not this."
"But he is thinking about this, honey," I moved toward her a few steps.
"I've been dealing with it all summer. You're ignoring this part of him,
so you're not seeing what I'm seeing. This is all that's on his mind."
"And none of this would be happening if you hadn't asked him!" She accused
with soft anger. "I asked you not to do that. I don't know!" She threw up
her arms in frustration. "Maybe we should have him see a councilor or
some-"
"I WILL NOT HAND OUR SON OVER TO A STRANGER!" I roared so angrily, eyes
blazing, that they both shivered. Taking a few more steps toward her, I
fisted my hands and put them over my heart. "Gena, what would that tell
him if we did that? Huh?" I asked pleadingly. "That's what we're here
for."
She was on the verge of tears, not knowing herself how to proceed, yet
remained stubborn.
I couldn't be here, not where I was standing. Not in this house. Not near
her right now. I was too angry at her suggestion and too confused about
her reaction and too hurt from her accusation that I knew I had to break
away. Backing up, I told them both, "I need some air. Go ahead...and have
dinner, I don't know when I'll be back." Deliberately slow, I left the
house, got in my car and went downtown.
Knowing that he wouldn't be working at that hour, I stepped under the
windows of the building he lived in. "Max?" I called loudly. No answer.
"Max?" I called more loudly.
"Dave!" I looked to all the windows above me until I saw him. "I'll buzz
you up. It's apartment 211."
He greeted me at the door with his usual smile, but it disappeared when he
saw me. "Come on in." I sat down in the middle of the couch and closed my
eyes. "Dave?" I felt the impact of his sitting beside me. "Hey buddy."
Without any pleasantries, I explained to him what happened in a defeated
and desperate voice. When I was finished, I collapsed back.
Opening my eyes after several minutes, I looked at him. His look told me
he was in deep thought. "Max, I need to spend some time with you today."
Turning to me, he nodded. "More time than just a few moments of
conversation like we usually do." He nodded. "I need to hear more."
He sighed. "You have a divided household, even if it's just one person not
agreeing with the rest of you."
"It's hard for me to believe," I spat out, shaking my head. "My wife has
known gay people most of her life and now she can't be supportive of her
own son? This is not sitting well with me. Not at all."
"I think she's gotten herself into a set frame of mind from past
experience."
"And how's that? I really want to know."
"Well, of all the gay people she's ever met and known, they've probably all
come out of the closet between the ages of eighteen and, say, twenty-five.
She's never heard of this."
I laughed hard, bitterly. "So, you're saying there's an age requirement
before you can be gay?"
"No!" He said quickly, staring at me. Max's eyes suddenly swelled with
tears. Standing abruptly, he announced that he'd be right back. I watched
him go into the bathroom and shut the door.
Many minutes passed. Getting concerned, I walked to the bathroom door and
knocked lightly. "Max?" Seconds later, he opened the door. "Are you
okay?" He nodded, although his face and eyes were red. "Why are you
crying?"
He laughed, standing up. "If you could only understand. If you could be
standing where I'm standing and looking at you." He fisted his hands
together and beat my chest with hardly any pressure. "If you could only
see what I'm seeing."
What the hell? I asked myself. "Max, when you say stuff like that, I don't
get it, I'm not following."
Stepping around me, I followed him back to the living area, both of us
sitting on the couch. "I wasn't crying because anything is wrong," Max
began, "It's because everything is right! I am so proud of you!" He
grinned from ear to ear. "Where the fuck were you when I was conceived?
Why couldn't you have been my father?" He asked with happy excitement. He
shook his head in disbelief. "I'd give anything to be Zavid right now.
I'm that envious!"
I just looked at him, waiting. My mind was back at the house in the
situation that just happened to me.
"Dave," His voice was a deep whisper, "there is no requirement at all to be
gay." His passionate voice soothed me. "Being gay for some men just is.
There is no reason why, and there are no answers because there are no
absolute questions about it. It's just another one of those things like
`what came first, the chicken or the egg?' It's THAT simple. Very few
people argue about the chicken and the egg because they can't. It's moot.
Everything comes into existence the way it does because it's got no
choice."
My eyes moved to the coffee table, finding a glass, motionless snow ball to
stare at. "What does this have to do with what happened?"
Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "Some people choose to make choices for
others, and it's rare that they should. Your wife...she's choosing to
leave your son's options open, even though she doesn't hear him, or won't
hear him. She's ignoring that he doesn't have an option because, at his
age, she believes there are always options. She's right to think that,
actually, and wrong at the same time."
My eyes went to him immediately, questioningly. He saw the concern in my
face.
"What I'm saying is, your hormones and testosterone around males and
females can't be controlled or directed. They're gonna react how they're
gonna react for one or the other, or both at the same time. Zavid's
reactions are with males. I've not heard you say once that he's had any
reaction to females, so yes, he's homosexual. If he wasn't, he'd be
confused instead of afraid at his age, and he's afraid only because of our
fucked up society and all its rules." He turned to me. "Dude, she's
looking at his age, not his sexual awakening. She can't hold him back from
that. She shouldn't. That's my opinion."
I nodded. "Mine too."
God, this man could make me relax! All of my anxieties I had on the drive
here abandoned me. I felt limp. Even my anger toward Gena was gone. I
felt for her. She wasn't putting in as much effort as I was regarding our
son. I didn't know why, but I wanted to learn more from her.
In my loose frame of mind, I remembered watching the video. "Max?"
"Yeah?"
"I watched the DVD."
He studied me with amusement. "What'd you think?"
"I got a hard-on from it," I said matter of fact, "but I don't know why."
I realized just then the ability I had to just say it, to talk about my
cock with him. "It was just one guy in the video. There were no women.
Why did that happen to me?"
Smirking, he said, "It's not because of what you watched, it's because of
what you heard him say about self pleasure. It reached for you. Your
getting hard watching it tells me that you sensed every sensation that he
was talking about. It got to you. It wasn't the narrator's physical
presence, it was what he had to say and share with you."
I bought what Max said, actually, as I thought about it, remembering how I
viewed the video. I was totally involved in the speech when watching.
"You should try it," Max told me.
Numbness overcame me at the notion, which was only a temporary protection
to let me actually consider it. And at that moment, some song came to me.
Music and words. `...lay,' `...stone,' `sand,' `...stream.' The melody
was there, but most of the words were blurred. Something from long ago, in
the cobwebs from my youth. It comforted me, reminding me of my mother,
oddly.
"Max, you said to me that I was afraid of a man's body."
"I did."
"I am, in more ways than one," He nodded acknowledgement. "I don't want to
be, but it's how I grew up. I was raised to be this way, it was my
environment."
Max thought about what I said, and asked "So, do you want your sons to
never know everyday male affection that you can share, or do you want all
of you to share everyday male affection?"
"I don't know what everyday male affection is."
He grinned sheepishly, "It's what you make it, Dave. It's the love between
you. No two families are the same. It's what you make it."
Max sat there with me in silence for almost an hour before I stirred into
consciousness. Sitting up, I looked at him, sitting there beside me,
patient, understanding, supportive. "I should go."
At the door, I asked him, "Why do you put up with me? Why so patient? Why
so understanding?"
He didn't hesitate in answering. "Dave, if you knew millions of people,
they would die to have you for a father. It's a compliment."
Not being able to help myself, I hugged him with both arms this time, and
felt his hug back. "I'm doing my best," I told him.
"You are."
At home, I moved through the house to see who was around and what they were
doing. Zavid was in his room and on his game, appearing to have no new
conflicts. Corbin wasn't there. Alexis and Katrina were watching a DVD in
the family room. It looked as if there wasn't anything further that
happened after I left. I found Gena on the porch in the back yard. She
was in deep thought.
Hearing and seeing me come through the screen door, she placed her hands on
her knees. "Let's talk." I sat beside her. "I've never seen you that
angry at me before," She stated. I didn't reply. "I don't ever want to
feel that again."
I knew how she felt just by her posture toward me. "I'm okay now, but we
need to come to some agreement about our son. I know you love him, I know
you want what's best for him." She agreed with a nod.
Looking over the back yard as I thought what to say next, I noticed how
dilapidated the grass had become. It was well warn. It made me realize
that the situation our family was in wasn't how I wanted us to become.
"Honey, I know Zave is fourteen, but what he's going through isn't only for
adults."
"But David, it takes an adult to accept it," She said calmly.
"He won't be an adult when he turns eighteen if he is blocked from awaking
sexually at this time," I stressed. "He'll only be fourteen again,
irresponsible and na´ve." Gena glared at me. It pissed me off. "Look, if
you're not going to listen, we're divided, and it won't do Zavid any good
for his future."
She darted from the steps and moved to the back of the yard. I could hear
that she started crying. I sighed heavily. I'd been going through too
many emotions all summer. Just when I thought I was doing something right,
a stone was thrown in my face. It hurt. Before proceeding, I checked
myself to feel if I had any anger, but didn't feel any. I stood and went
to her. "Tell me what you want to say," I told her.
"David!" She said my name through clenched teeth, "Let him keep this to
himself, let him do the normal things a child of his age does-"
"But he's not!" I retorted, very exhausted. "He's feeling sexual, just
like Corbin did with girls, and what you did with Corbin was warn him to
treat girls right. You're not acknowledging Zave's sexual feelings at
all!"
She trembled. "I can't at his age."
I pulled her to me, embracing her. "Then will you let me? I know you love
him, I know that won't change, but will you let me deal with him? If you
can't, then let me!"
"Why?" She cried. "How are you allowing this?" I felt her breath hard on
my shoulder.
"Because I love him."
Every part of her body stopped shivering, even though her eyes kept
spilling tears. "I do too!"
"Then let me learn about him." Having her in my arms just then calmed me.
Having her in my arms always calmed me. "Babe, love him just as you always
will, but when it comes to his sexuality, don't interfere." She tried to
pull away but she was petite enough for me to hold her to me. "If we go in
two different directions about this, Gena, we'll lose him."
She broke down then. To my surprise, I wanted it to happen. I wanted her
to cry at the thought of the loss of a child. It was any parents' greatest
fear.
I held her for countless moments, feeling her go from crying convulsions to
being frozen.
"If you can't support him," I started whispering in her ear, "at least keep
loving him. Let me worry about the rest."
With deliberate slowness, I let her pull away far enough to face me.
Meeting eyes, she said, "Alright." She kissed me. "Alright."
The relief I felt was enough for me to hug her like we normally do. I knew
that she'd do what she could do, yet remain silent when it came to her
beliefs, whatever they were. I still didn't understand her, but there was
agreement between us. That's all I needed. It kept our son safe from
differences of opinion when he doesn't need to worry.